Making Strength
by compass-ink
Summary: Maria helps the Prince of Kashuan in an unorthodox way.


"He's a weakling," Firion muttered, poking at his bowl of stew. "I can't believe a man like that is destined to rule an entire country." They never talked as though the conquered places would stay that way-when they spoke of the future, it was always of independent towns and nations. Kashuan would be its own kingdom again one day.

"He wasn't supposed to be," Maria said. "Besides-it isn't as though we were any better when the Empire attacked Fynn."

Firion's shoulders tightened. "I don't remember any of us cowering behind the rebel headquarters. As soon as we could, we started to fight, and we did everything we could to get stronger-even you."

Maria let him sit in silence for a few moments to think about how he'd ended that sentence. "...fine," he said at last, staring at the table. "I'll help train him."

"No." She stood up. "He knows you hate him. I think he'll be more comfortable with a fellow weakling, anyway."

"That's not what I-!" But she was already on her way to the door of the inn.

Half an hour later, Maria and the prince stood in the alley by the town's sanctuary. She kept her face carefully blank as she picked up the javelin and turned to face the him. The poor man was standing up straight, but that was about all the steadiness he seemed able to manage. "You're... quite sure about this?" he asked with a tremble in his voice.

She hefted the weapon-though she vastly preferred the bow and arrow, this would be better for their training now. "I know it's strange. But it really does work," she said. "This is how I was able to get as strong as Firion and Guy."

He tore his eyes away from the steel point and squared his shoulders. "All right," he said, halfway-banishing the shakiness. "If this makes me less weak, then I will do it."

Maria gave him a reassuring smile. Poor Gordon; she wished that they didn't have to do this at all. As churlish as Firion had been, he did have a point-Gordon was barely able to keep up with them. "Just relax, and remember my instructions." Then she stabbed him in the shoulder.

His face froze into a mask of pain that only moved to frame a scream when she pulled the weapon out, and he clutched his shoulder tightly. Blood spread over his linen undershirt, but she was well used to the sight by now. "Cure," she prompted quietly.

"C-cure!" He pulled his hand away from the wound as the blue-white light swirled around him, and straightened up. "All right. Again."

This time the spear went into his other shoulder. He cried out at once but stood straight as he cured himself again. Five more times she continued, trying not to wince with each blow. Each time he healed himself and waited for the next strike, face locked into a grimace until finally he had no magic left. "Cure... cure..." the word sounded hollow and empty without the energy behind it.

Maria waved her hand. "Cure." As Gordon sat down slowly, she offered her canteen to him. "It's hard, I know. But it was worth it, in the end."

"I know..." He gulped the water and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, princely manners forgotten. "I don't think I've ever met anyone as strong as you, Maria."

"Me?"

He nodded as she sat next to him. "Yes, you! Firion and Guy, and my brother... they're warriors through and through. When a fight comes, they wouldn't think of backing down. But... you don't like it. You don't want to see your friends get hurt, and you don't want to hurt others..."

"I don't want to get hurt myself either," she added. "But that doesn't make me strong. I just know that there isn't any choice."

Gordon shook his head. "Yes there is. There are plenty of men and women who support the rebellion in other ways, but you go out and fight every time."

Maria leaned back on her hands. She thought of saying that she had to fight to keep Firion and Guy safe. That was partly true; she was the one who made sure they had enough supplies and organized the money so they could travel to their destinations without having to worry about anything but monsters and weather. At the beginning, she would have been just as happy to do that from Altair, but now? The thought of staying 'safe' at headquarters just didn't fit in her mind. "I don't like it. But I would like not doing it even less."

"That's strength. You want to fight more than you're afraid of it."

"Really?" Maria smiled. "And what does that make you, I wonder?"

Gordon picked at the tears in his shirt. "You may be right," he conceded. "But I don't think I can get used to this. I don't like hurting things, even monsters."

"That's all right. Like you said-there are other ways to support the rebellion."


End file.
